Time Lapse: A One Direction Fanfic
by JannikMathiesen
Summary: Benjamin Parker has no idea what's going on. All he knows is that: 1. It's his parents' second big day. 2. Someone named Harry keeps bumping into him. 3. At midnight this day is going to start over. Why? Just add that to his long list of unsolved problems. Problems that cause whoever-is-doing-this to keep hitting the replay button until he gets it right, no matter the consequences
1. Day 1 - The Kiss

Day 1

**The Kiss**

It's my parents' second big day. Why? I have absolutely no clue. For some reason they decided to split up and get married again within the blink of an eye. How long exactly? I don't know either. In fact, I don't know a lot at the moment. All I know is that I might as well be dreaming. That, and the fact that I'm supposed to be my dad's best man in twelve hours.

So what's my name? Well, let's just say you can call me Benjamin. I'm born and raised in Canada, even though you probably wouldn't be able to tell with my die-hard American accent. I live in Vancouver, but for some reason I'm currently residing in a shacky, little town in Louisiana. Why? Just add that to the long list of reasons why my parents are crazy.

I run my fingers through my hair, my blue eyes tiredly gazing at my reflection. I just got it cut yesterday, but blonde highlights are already peeking through my short dark hair. I'm still in my PJ's, though I'm supposed to be wearing a pink shirt and tie for the wedding.

I put my glasses on and turn towards the window. It's still raining outside. It have been doing it for days now, making it hard to do anything around here especially sleep. The TV flickers on in the background, the soundtrack of the news beaming through the speakers.

"And we interrupt with a short warning," The meteorologist announces. "A storm is coming our way." Not news, they posted the warning yesterday. "According to our recent calculations," Recent? I hope so. "The storm will be hitting this afternoon with wind speeds up to 58 m/pr.h."

My finger hits the red circle and the screen goes black. I guess this is what happens when you decide to go halfway across the continent just to get married.

I glance over my shoulder, 6.30. For the fist time in my life I regret getting up early. I have nothing to do, the internet's out, and since they're going to interrupt every broadcast with the popular show, Storm Watch, the TV's definitely out of the question. So I head out into the hallway.

Out in the hallway it's silent. Nothing's in sight besides the mockery of pictures showing me the place I've been living for the past couple weeks. A place full of beaches, sunshine, and occasionally girls in tight shorts who've never known the true meaning of the word winter. In other words paradise. But apparently even paradise has its limits.

"Hey! Watch out!" Someone yells, way too late from the other end of the hallway. I turn just in time to see a heavy laundry cart barreling towards me, throwing me face-first into the driver. We roll around, crushing through a sea of towels.

"What the-" A hand covers my mouth. The cart's still rolling.

"Just stay calm, okay?" The guy next to me says. I bite his hand. "Feisty, I like it."

Before I'm able to protest the cart hurls itself against the wall, tossing us overboard. We land beside it, towels raining from the ceiling. For some reason none of us can stop laughing.

"What in the world's going on?" Another guy, probably the one who yelled, comes towards us. He has brown hair, sticking up over his head and his eye are gleaming mischievously. His accent is undoubtedly British.

"Sorry, Louis," The guy next to me says, grinning. "I just didn't feel like getting up after the attack."

"Attack?" I exclaim. "You ran into me with a 200 pound iron cart."

"Hey," He protests, and I notice he's British too. "At least you landed on something soft. Me."

I blush. He studies me for a moment, his long curly hair almost covering his eyes.

"Don't do that, Curly," Louis slams him with a towel. "You're making him uncomfortable."

"I'm going to make you uncomfortable, Boo bear," The guy teases.

"Oh, grow up," Louis rolls his eyes, reaching for my hand. I'm about to grab it, when a towel suddenly wraps around his ankle. "Don't you dare."

"Too late," The guy drags Louis to the ground. "He's mine."

He gets up and walks towards me, "I'm Harold."

"Benjamin," I reply, grabbing his hand. He pulls me up while Louis rolls on the floor laughing.

"Harold?" Louis's eyes are close to tears. "Oh, come on."

"I can be Harold if I want to," Harold says before turning towards me. "By the way, sorry for driving into you. Louis is a really bad pusher."

"I'm not," Louis gets up to face him. "You're a really bad driver."

"Says a guy from Doncaster," Harold mumbles, making Louis tie him up from behind.

"Take it back," When he doesn't give in, Louis turns towards me. "Now, Benjamin, why don't you get up in that cart?"

"Why?" I stare suspiciously at him.

"So I can prove that Harry here is a buttonhead."

"I'm not," Harry protests.

"Yes, you are."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Ye-"

"You know," I start backing away. "Maybe you two should figure this out and get back to me."

"Just get in the cart," Louis repeats.

"No."

"Get in the cart."

"No."

"Get. In. The cart."

Louis comes towards me. Harry winks.

"What in-" Louis starts, but before he's able to finish Harry has thrown him onto the floor. He climbs his back triumphantly.

"MMM!" Louis shrieks through the towel now placed over his mouth.

"Sorry, can't understand you," Harry apologizes, grinning widely. "I would run if I were you."

"Yeah," I admit. "Sounds good."

I'm about to leave when Harry stops me.

"Hey, are you not one of children to the couple that's getting married?"

"Yes."

"Guess I see you later then," He says, smiling mischievously.

"I guess so," I reply, before walking back down the hall.

* * *

"Can someone please, tell me, why we're not even at dessert yet?" I hear someone complaining behind me. It's without doubt one of waiters due to the British accent. And sure enough, a moment later someone way too familiar steps in front of me.

"Hey Pinky," The guy, I think Zayn's his name, says. "When are your parents done so we can get movin'?"

I roll my eyes, "I don't know. In an hour?"

"Well, could you hurry it up," He replies. "We kinda need to be somewhere in one."

"I'll try," I answer, noticing him impersonating me. Behind me someone's snickering.

"I can hear you," I say loudly, turning just in time to see three heads disappear back into the kitchen. I shake my head. For some reason the five waiters my parents hired are either completely impotent or children. Well, everyone besides Harry.

Harry has been taking away my plates all night, always smiling and joking. He even managed to juggle with 6 glasses at once without dropping them. Unfortunately, though, he has too been asking me when we could move on, and the truth is that I don't know.

I thought that when my parents decided to have an all-night extravaganza, they would hurry things up. Especially after the urgent phone calls from the fire department. Unfortunately, though, the clock's slowly ticking towards ten, and my parents are nowhere to be seen. The only thing that still keeps the crowd going is the really, really long-awaited wedding cake.

My eyes scans the room again, hoping to find my mothers caring face, but I have no luck. I'm about to consider sending everyone home when someone taps my shoulder.

"Hey," Harry leans closer so he can whisper in my ear. "You wanna go for a walk?"

I scan the room again, before silently nodding.

It doesn't take long till we're both outside on the beach. The winds are still strong, but at least the rain has stopped. The meteorologists postponed the storm several hours ago, but it's still freezing. I shrug, wishing I'd dared taking my coat.

"You're cold?" Harry asks, and I nod. "Why are you not wearing a suit?"

"I hate suits," I reply.

"You hate suits?" He gives me a weird stare.

"Yes, there so stiff and," I try to think of the right word. "Black."

"Hmm, interesting," He pretends to be thinking. "So you don't like things there's both stiff and black."

"That's not what I said," I try, but can't help but grin.

"I guess that's why you don't like Zayn," Harry continues. "After all, what he has down under is probably both black, and stiff, and-"

"Will you stop it?" I interrupt, instinctively covering his mouth with my hand. He raises his eyebrows and I back away embarrassed.

We walk a few minutes in silence. The cold's not as bad anymore, not after I touched Harry. The blood has returned to my fingers and is finally rushing back into my body. Above us the moon peeks out through the clouds, illuminating our way. And for the first time, I notice the color of Harry's eyes.

"You got gray eyes," I suddenly let out.

"Yeah," Harry admits. "Did you know gray means dirty?"

I look at him, somehow liking where this is going. I shrug.

"Hey, are you still freezing?" He tugs me close to him. He's warm. I'm about to pull him closer when water hits my face. Above us the sky has finally erupted into a full-fledged rainstorm.

"Race you back," Harry suddenly says, something lustful about his tone. I nod.

It takes a little over ten minutes to get back to the hotel. Harry gets there first, but I can see that he would have let me win if he'd known. We're both soaked badly, and through his shirt it's easy to identify his abs and nipples. They're hard.

"Do you have another shirt?" Harry asks.

"No," I gulp, truthfully. Usually I would always wear a basketball T-shirt along with a button down, rarely shirts. I hate shirts almost the same way I hate suits.

"Come with me," He says, gazing into my eyes before dragging me after him into the hallway. His hand burns around my wrist. Trying not to think about it, I make up a question.

"Do you live here?" I ask.

"Kinda, they got staff quarters," He answers as we turn left. "But I have a small flat in New Orleans."

"New Orleans?" I stare surprised at him, knowing it's over an hour away. "What are-" But before I can finish we pass my parents room. And for some reason what's going on doesn't surprise me at all.

"Mom, dad, what are you doing?" I say, stopping in front of the open door. They both turn around, trying hard to hide the fact that their bags are packed and they're on their way out the window.

"Oh, nothing dear," My mom answers, but I stare her down. "All right, we were on our way out so we could get on our honeymoon."

Honeymoon? If I remember correctly they told me it was going to be a family vacation.

"Honeymoon," I repeat, still trying to understand. "We haven't even had dessert yet, and you decided to leave me, my sister, and your guests without even saying goodbye."

"Don't worry, honey," My mom quickly says. "We left a credit card in your room. All you have-"

"To do is what?" I yell. "Send home your guests? Tell my sister you left? Come on, mom. You taught me to be responsible, do you even know Harry and his friends have plans to?"

"Harry?" My mom stares dumbfounded at me as Harry peeks around the corner.

"Hi," He says, waving uncomfortably.

"Look," I start. "You two go back to the ballroom and cut the cake. Whatever you do afterwards, I don't care. If I have to tell everyone so be it. Just go."

My parents stare open-mouthed at me, but do as they're told. After they are gone I turn to Harry.

"Look," I start again. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right," Harry looks down. "Another time."

But before he leaves something unexpected happens. He leans forward and his lips brushes against mine. A tingling sensation pass through me, and our hands graze. I'm about to let him push me up against the wall, when a voice echoes through the hallway.

"Benjamin," My mom yells. "Are you coming?"

I look at him once more, feeling our fingers intertwine before turning away.

"Night, Benji," He mumbles behind me. I smile.

* * *

I fall onto my bed, wanting my day to finally be over. My parents just left for their honeymoon, and even though no one's got a clue, I feel bad for not telling my sister. Something starts nagging my back and I pull out the plastic card from underneath me.

It seems to be laughing, mocking me of everything that didn't happen tonight. I aim for the trashcan, but misses it by a few inches. It's not even worth the try.

I stare at the clock, 11.40. I wonder if I should go see if Harry's still around and within a few minutes I'm back in the hallway. I slowly navigate my way back to the lobby, following the signs to the staff quarters. Harry didn't give me his room number, but hopefully it's not too tough. Luckily, I'm right.

After about five minutes I find myself by small assortment of rooms all labeled staff. I start moving towards them, wondering how to get inside, when I notice one of the doors are ajar. I take my chance.

Inside the room's almost like mine. It has two beds, a large window overlooking the bay, but the bathroom must be out in the hallway. My eyes quickly lock on a white shirt, hanging on the closet and I decide it must be Harry's. The only problem, the room's empty.

As I slowly start searching the room for something to leave a message on, my hand grazes across an old pocket watch on the floor. I open it, but it's not working. Instead both its hands are locked on twelve.

I shake my head before something white, in a backpack next to me, catches my eye. I drop the watch and reach for it. It's a MacBook charger. I stare at it for a moment before deciding that it is as good as any. I continue rummaging through the backpack and soon a red marker finds my hand. I try it out, it works.

I start writing on one side of the charger, careful not to smudge it. I turn it over. I'm about done, when the door creaks behind me. My head instantly turns and in front of me is Harry. A huge smile on his face.


	2. Day 2 - New Orleans

Day 2

**New Orleans**

I wake up, my body full of ecstasy. Harry kissed me. My lips still lingers with the taste of him, my eyes unable to forget the smile on his face. And now we're back in my room after doing who-knows-what and it's morning. I reach over excited to finally touch him again. Except he's gone. Or rather he's not there.

"Harry?" I call, hoping for a response. None comes.

I immediately tumble out of the bed and make my way to the bathroom. It's empty.

I hurry over to the sink and start splashing water in my face. There has to be a reasonable explanation for this, Harry wouldn't leave me. In fact, he has probably just gone back to his room to take a shower. Yeah, people do that after sex, right? But then, why am I still wearing pants?

When I come back into my room the TV flickers on. It's been doing it for days now, even though I told the management to come to fix it. Maybe Harry knows a thing or two about electronics.

"And we interrupt with a short warning," The meteorologist announces; I freeze. "A storm is coming our way. And according to our recent calculations-"

I don't let him finish. Instead I press the button and hurry over to my bedstand. This has to be a mistake, the storm should be over by now. I quickly pick up my phone. Maybe Harry has left a message for me or his phone number or... something.

But I never get that far. Instead my eyes stay fixed on the lock screen.

January 31, 2013.

No, that can't be true. That was yesterday when Harry kissed me. When I kissed him.

My feet start moving around furiously. There has to be a some way to prove it's not my parents wedding day again. After all technology does have flaws. But if yesterday was today, that would mean that Harry would be in...

The thought strikes me and I instantly storm out of the room. Fast.

My heart pounds heavily in my chest as I sprint towards the laundry room. If I'm lucky they're not gone yet. And as predicted, voices are streaming out into the hallway through the half-open door.

"Oh, come on, Boo Bear," Harry, unmistakably, says. "Let me go first."

I carefully push the door open, making my way to corner of the entryway. I peek out and see that Louis and Harry are both standing in front of the laundry cart, Harry has a towel in his hand.

"But you went first yesterday," Louis complains, about to jump in. "Besides if you hadn't been screeching in the shower this morning, I would still be fast asleep."

"In others words," Harry spanks Louis with his towel.

"Oh, it's on," Louis quickly grabs a towel just in time to avoid another one of Harry's blows. I feel a twinge of jealousy inside me. Maybe yesterday was nothing more than a dream.

I'm about to crawl back out into the hallway when a huge pile of towels fall down next to me with a loud thump. Harry and Louis look up.

"Who's there?" Harry yells. "Reveal yourself. Or I will spank you."

I take a deep breath, considering to make a run for it.

"I'll count to three," Harry continues. "One. Two. The-"

But before he can finish I step out, my eyes immediately meeting his.

"Wait, haven't I seen you before?" He asks. I'm about to answer, when Louis interrupts.

"Looks like we got ourselves a spy," Louis starts. "And you know what we do with spies?"

I stare bewildered at them. They lock eyes.

"THROW THEM IN THE CART!" They both scream simultaneously. I have no idea what happens next. All I remember is that one moment I'm next to the towels, the next I'm dangling in the air above the basket.

"Any last wishes?" Louis asks.

"Actually-" I start, just in time to feel my body getting plunged into a sea of towels. A second later someone joins me. Harry.

"Sorry 'bout this," He says. "Louis likes to joke around."

"It's all right," I manage to reply before Harry suddenly grabs my body, pulling me in close. I feel our bodies align, as he finds my ear, muttering something in a deep, husky voice.

"Enjoy the ride."

* * *

"Come on, honey," My dad says as he exits their room. "You can finish packing when we get back."

I hear my mom scramble with her shoes before joining my dad in the hallway. I lean back against the wall, waiting for their steps to fade. It doesn't take long. I slowly move forward, thankful that my parents gave me the extra key. Unfortunately, I also suspect why, which doesn't make this any easier.

My head slowly clears as I move forward. There's nothing, but the last couple of hours there's real. The hours which I spend with Harry and Louis, running up and down the hallways with a heavy iron cart. The hours where Harry seemed to like me again.

I take a deep breath, feeling the card swipe through. It beeps; I'm in.

My hand shakes as I open the door.

Inside the room looks completely normal. The sheets are still folded neatly on the beds, the towels are still laying in a tidy pile, but where there should have been clothes and shoes strewn across the floor are instead bags. Regular old gym bags my parents have easily hidden from sight by compressing them in their trolleys.

I feel the card burn in my hand as I walk over and place it on top of the red one. It's my mom's. Usually she would never use it. Yet here it is, degraded to a hobo bag. A bag full of things you run away with.

I walk over to the window. The rain's still drumming against it. And as I turn, letting my back slide down it, tears start to burn their way through the corners of my eyes.

"Are you all right?" Someone asks. He's wearing white sneakers.

"No," I answer, snuffling.

"So," He sits down next to me. "What's wrong?"

"It's complicated," I snuffle again.

"Is it?" His finger touches my cheek. "Or do you just think it is?"

The moment he turns my face, I let myself fall into his arms. Harry's arms. I snuffle and cry, letting tear after tear fall into his curly, brown hair. Suddenly an angelic sound hits my ears, he's humming.

I don't know how long we sit there. All I know is that Harry's voice never stops. It just keeps going, no stutter, no falter. He doesn't even pry.

"Better?" He asks, when I finally lean away. "Cause if not, you know what they say, all you need is a little love."

A small giggle escapes my lips.

"Hey, what do you say to taking the day off and going to New Orleans?" Harry asks, returning my smile.

"But what about the wedding?" I say, guilt filling my stomach.

"Well, you're clearly not all jolly with your parents," He starts. "Besides the guys can cover for me. We have a gig in New Orleans tonight anyway."

I bite my lip, way too sure of what to say.

"All right," I finally give in. "Let's go."

* * *

The sun's shinning once we exit the ice cream parlor. Harry and I went in about 30 minutes ago for a snack since none of us (particularly Harry with his white T-shirt) wanted to get wet after the one-hour drive to the city.

"So," Harry says, as we start walking down the waterfront. "Are you gonna tell me what's going on?"

I don't reply immediately. My gut tells me I can trust Harry, but what if this day is just a dream too? Then it won't even matter.

"It's complicated," I start.

"You already said that," Harry replies. I hesitate, wondering how much I should tell. He notices and scowls. I laugh.

"All right, you really wanna know?"

"Yes, tell me, tell me, tell me," Harry starts jumping up and down, like a kid waiting for candy. I take a deep breath.

"It all started eight months ago when my parents got divorced," I start, but before I can continue Harry holds up his hand.

"Wait a sec'," He says. "So you're saying that your parents only were separated for eight months?"

"More like five," I answer and continue. "See three months ago, they got back together, started acting weird, being irresponsible-"

"Having loud sex," Harry adds, winking.

"Gross," I punch his shoulder. "Stop that."

"What?" Harry exclaims, his face covered in mischief. "I like older women."

"What women?" I ask, defensively. But Harry doesn't reply, instead he just keeps walking.

As we walk further down the waterfront the clouds start gathering again. The winds become a tad stronger, but apparently it doesn't interrupt any of the Southerners from their daily business. In fact, they seem perfectly at home.

I get a huge knot in my stomach as we pass a small pavilion. It reminds me of the Southern wedding my parents always wanted. On the steps of it, sits an Afro-American guy, strumming on his guitar. He's surrounded by people, all smiling happily. Harry suddenly notices I'm uncomfortable and stops.

"Hey," He says. "I got an idea."

Harry grabs my hand and drags me over to the pavilion. The guy has just finished.

"Hey bro," He greets. "Could I borrow your guitar? Promise I won't steal it."

"Sure, man," The guy says, handing it to Harry. "Rock on."

Harry thanks him before whispering in my ear, "At least not while your looking."

I smile and watch as Harry drops down onto the steps, ready to play.

"Do you play guitar?" He sounds nervous.

"A bit."

"Then please don't make fun of me," He says before strumming the first chord.

At first I don't recognize what he's playing. Maybe it's his rusty skills, but then it hits me.

"Isn't she lovely," He sings. "Isn't she wonderful."

He looks at me.

_"Isn't she precious, less than one minute old. I never thought through love we be,"_

People starts surrounding us, I smile.

_"Making one as lovely as she. Isn't she lovely made from love."_

His voice ebbs out, the strumming continues. When he returns, his eyes are locked with mine.

_"Isn't she pretty, truly the Angels best."_

"Oh, boy, I'm so happy," Harry exclaims. People laugh.

_"I can't believe what God has done, through us he's given life to one."_

He stands up.

_"But isn't she lovely made from love. Isn't she lovely, life and love are the same."_

He walks towards me.

_"Life with Benji, a butt full of pain. Blondie, it could not have been done,"_

I shake my head.

_"Without me having some fun,"_

He stops in front of me, grinning.

_"But you're so very lovely, made…"_

The guitar playing stops.

_"From love."_

The last notes rings across the park. People applaud him. When they're done he turns toward me.

"What do you think?" He looks at me, his face still covered in a cheeky expression.

"Since when did I become the woman in this relationship?" I cross my arms.

"Since you decided to be the jealous one with the hole."

"You going in the water for that," I say. But before I'm able to grab him, Harry hands back the guitar and make a run for it. I follow him.

* * *

"So this is where the two love birds are hiding," Zayn says, slipping into the booth across from us. He's making a smoochy face.

"Oh, come on, guys," Harry says as Louis and two other guys, one with a buzz-cut and one blonde, join in. "I seriously thought we were all grown-ups here."

"Says the guy who digs my butt," Louis comments.

"We all dig your butt, Louis," The guy with the buzz-cut slaps it. "Hi, I'm Liam."

"Benjamin," I shake his hand.

"Do you by any chance know the recipe to the wedding cake?" The blonde asks.

"No, why should I?"

"You are the son of the bride and groom, right?" He stares anticipating at me.

"How did you-" I start, to astonished to finish.

"Niall always memorizes the names of the guest in case someone's sick or leaving or-"

"There's a delicious emergency," Niall ends, already sobbing over the menu.

"Wait, you're Nadja's brother?" Zayn turns his attention back to me. "Do you, by any chance, know what happened to your par-"

"Anyway," Harry interrupts, and I send him a grateful smile. "Did you bring it?"

"Right here," Louis throws a bag to Harry, who catches it one handed. "But hurry we're on in five."

"But that's barely time to eat dessert," Niall complains as the other guys get up and leave to go backstage. All except Harry, who stops right behind me.

"And just so you know," He whispers into my ear. "I'm gonna be all naked."

I roll my eyes as he strolls off. Harry and I have already spent so much time together that I'm used to his perverted way of thinking. Unfortunately, my pants doesn't seem to agree. They tighten the minute he's gone.

I do a sharp inhale, clearing my thoughts, before focusing on the stage at the other end of the room. It's nothing special, but Harry told me that him and the guys met each other at this club a few years back. They had all been here in hope of catching some British producer's attention and ended forming a band.

"Excuse me, can I sit here?" Someone suddenly asks, and I look up. It's a middle aged man with shaggy, dark hair and a stern expression. He's wearing sunglasses.

"Sure," I say, smiling.

The man thanks me and sits down. I glance at the clock on the wall again, wondering how long it is till the boys goes on. It can't be more than two minutes. Then my eyes somehow finds their way to man sitting across from me and I end up studying him.

"Is something wrong?" He asks, making me jump in my seat.

"Haven't I seen you before?" The man opens his mouth about to answer, when music suddenly beams through the speakers. A deep, loud voice comes on.

"Are you ready to rock?" I recognize the voice immediately, peoples start cheering. "Then give a warm welcome to the hot, the sexy, the One Direction."

In that moment all the boys come running out on stage. I notice that Harry has exchanged his white t-shirt and cargo pants for a white grey-striped shirt, some tight jeans, and hightop sneakers. He looks hot.

"Are you ready?" Zayn yells, holding his microphone towards the audience. They scream.

The moment the boys start singing I recognize the song. It's last years summer anthem and soon everyone in the audience sings along. Even me.

As the set goes on the crowd only gets wilder. The girls basically start throwing their underwear at them. I can't help but laugh as I watch Niall pick a pair up, jokingly placing it on Zayn's head. Maybe these guys are childish, but they're passionate. Whoever that producer is, he's either a jerk or missing out.

"All right, guys," Liam says as their eighth song ebbs out. "We gonna turn it down a little. Nialler are you ready?"

He looks back at Niall who just found a guitar, strapping it securely around his shoulders.

"I'm ready," He proclaims.

"Okay, guys," Zayn says. "We're gonna play an oldie now. It's our trademark. This is Torn."

The crowd goes silent as Niall starts picking the melody. Their voices soon join in harmony and Liam steps out, ready to go solo.

_"Thought I saw a girl brought to life. She was warm, she came around and she was dignified. She showed me what it was to cry."_

Liam jumps off stage and moves toward on of the girls. He places her hand on his heart.

_"Well, you couldn't be that girl I adored. You don't seem to know, seem to care, what your heart is for. I don't know her anymore."_

Liam fades from the spotlight and Harry continues.

_"There's nothing where she used to lie. Our conversation has run dry. That's what's going on."_

The others jump after Liam into the audience, all singing.

_"Nothing's fine I'm torn. I'm all out of faith. This is how it feels."_

Each guy has a girl now.

_"I'm cold and I'm ashamed, lying naked on the floor."_

Harry finds my eyes and winks. I smile.

_"Illusion never change into something real. I'm wide awake and I can see the perfect sky is torn. You're a little late, I'm already torn."_

The guys start moving back onto the stage, no instruments playing. They repeat the chorus again and when it fades, the entire crowd stands up to applaud them. All except one.

"Why are you not clapping?" I ask the man, sitting across from me.

"Because they're good," He explains. "But without an original they're doomed."

I stare at him about to protest, when Harry's voice suddenly beams through the speakers.

"All right, guys, we're glad you liked it," The crowd cheers again. "But before we end the show we have a special guest with us tonight. Benji, get up here."

"No way."

But before I'm able to escape the crowd has grabbed me, dragging me onto the stage. I glare bitterly at Harry as I approach.

"I'm not that good a singer," I mumble.

"That's ridiculous," Harry answers. "I heard you hum at the pavilion."

"That was different." But instead of listening, Harry turns towards the audience.

"Who want to hear my pal, Benjamin, sing?" He yells. The crowd cheers, and before I'm able to protest further a microphone is placed in my hand. Only problem, I've got no idea of what to sing. Not unless...

"Niall," I yell, he hurries towards me. "Do you know Big Girls Don't Cry?"

"Yeah," He quickly places the guitar on his lap. "Ready?"

"Can I get a chair?" Someone immediately places one beneath me. "Now, I'm ready."

Niall starts picking and the song begins.

The door to Harry's apartment opens the second my butt touches the handle. We tumble inside both soaking wet from the rain, but he doesn't let go. Instead he presses me hard up against the wall, our lips never breaking. I feel his lips press hard against mine, his tongue desperately trying to breach the barrier.

"Not yet," I tease.

"Why not?" He complains in between breaths.

"First of all, we're wet," I start, quickly continuing before he can make any inappropriate jokes. "Besides the night's still young."

"So?" Harry replies. "You just got a business card from-"

"It's not that big of a deal."

"Well, big deal or not," Harry lingers a little. "You still deserve a big reward."

I try to object, but my legs are too weak and my pants too tight. I want Harry. I really do.

"All right," I whisper, through ragged breaths. "Let's do it."

Harry instantly grabs me around the waist and presses me back up against the wall. I can feel his bulge growing on my leg, making me hornier than ever. He starts kissing me roughly, and before I'm able to notice I'm thrown onto a madras shirtless.

He gazes at me for a moment.

"You're beautiful," He says, before leaning in to gently kiss me on the lips. My left hand quickly finds his hair, holding him tight, while the other searches for the hem of his shirt. Soon, it falls down beside us.

Blood starts rushing through me as our half-naked bodies meet. I moan.

"Man, you're dirty," Harry states in a sexy, husky tone

"I never said I wasn't," I force his lips back against mine.

We lay for a few minutes, kissing intensely. I let my hands comb through his hair as he moves down, letting out a moan every time he reaches a soft spot. Soon his hands are all over my legs and give in, folding my legs around his back.

Both our bulges rub together, a nerve wrecking explosion fills us.

But before any of us can react, Harry's elbow accidentally hits the remote. The TV turns on.

"We interrupt shortly with the sad news that the storm has already claimed its first victims," An aerial shot flashes across the screen. "On Route 10, an old oak suddenly collapsed on top of a black truck. The names of the victims are still unknown-"

I stop listening. The names are not unknown to me. That is my parents' car.


	3. Day 3 - The Wedding

Day 3

**The Wedding**

My head aches. It's like a hammer working overtime, banging its judgement into my head. I only pray for it to be over, hoping reality will somehow be suppressed by my closed eyelids. I don't want to remember yesterday. Nothing besides the fact that Harry and I almost had sex.

I try to turn away, but the banging continues.

"Get OUT!" I scream, throwing my pillow at it. A soft thud echoes through the room. It has hit the window.

I slowly open my eyes and look around. I'm no longer at Harry's. Now I'm back at the hotel, the rain drumming against the windows. It's morning, and for some reason I don't believe this to be any more real than the last time. The last time when it destroyed my life.

The duvet still covers my shoulders as I make my way to the window. Outside it's raining, a few specks of early sunlight peeking through. Down by the beach the waves are beating fast against the shore. I glance at it for a moment, lost in thought.

When I'm done I head back to bed.

It's early. I notice it the moment I let my eyes glance at the alarm clock. Earlier than the last two days when I woke up. Maybe that's my mistake, I always wake up too late to be able to change whatever God or whoever-else-is-doing-this wants me to. Or maybe I'm just to selfish, always running off with Harry.

I smile at the thought of him. It might not have been real for more than twenty-four hours, but at least we still had that. Whatever that is.

I put my pants on, scavenging my brain for ideas. If yesterday was God's way of saying don't have sex before marriage, it certainly worked. I don't want to risk my parents lives. Not again.

And in that moment, as usual, a brilliant plan hits me.

I carefully close the door behind me before tiptoeing down the hall. I try to think of where Harry might be as my bare feet slip across the floor. He wouldn't be in laundry room, not yet, so instead I head for the staff quarters.

A shrill suddenly reaches my ear as I get closer. The sound's coming from underneath the bathroom door, and I try my best not to laugh. It's tough. Whoever decided to get up before six to annoy the neighbors by crowing as a rooster, certainly couldn't be the brightest.

At least that's what I thought.

"Isn't she lovely, isn't she wonderful," Someone sings, and the door opens. "Isn't she precious, only… Woah! Who are you?"

I don't answer. Instead my eyes stay fixed on his towel, my mouth hanging loose.

"Are you all right?" Harry probably looks concerned. I'm still scanning his body.

"Ch… Tj… Y….yes," I finally manage, pretending to be looking at the ground.

"Good," He says. "Because some people might of that as inappropriate."

"Do you?" I ask, blushing.

"Nope," Harry leans casually against the door. I only nod in reply, still not able to look away from his chiseled stomach and…. Wait, is that two extra nipples?

"Anyway," Focus. I need to focus. "I'm actually here to ask-"

"For my assistance," Harry switches to his sexy voice.

"Yes," I burst out. Harry lights up. "I mean no. I'm here because my parents need a bodyguard."

"A bodyguard?" He sounds disappointed.

"Yeah," I explain. "I need someone to watch over them, make sure they don't go anywhere."

"So like a nanny," Harry ponders for a moment. "Can I wear a French maid costume?"

I send him an irritating glare.

"I don't know," He looks down. "The guys and I have a gig tonight-"

"I'll pay you double."

"But-"

"Triple."

"All right," Harry finally gives in. "I guess they can sing without me."

"Good," I say. "Handshake?"

Harry nods. I move towards him about to reach out, when something happens.

His towel falls to the ground.

* * *

Harry's buttocks. That's all I can think about for the rest of the day. Even that goofy smile of his doesn't seem to vanish from mind. Heck, he's still carrying it as I pass him on my way to the ceremony. Unfortunately, I spent too much time making everything perfect for tonight that I don't want to risk losing my only backup in case it fails. Besides with Zayn and Niall by his side, he's impenetrable.

"Hey, Parker," Zayn yells as they pass. "Remember this?"

Zayn shakes his butt and smacks it.

"Can't keep anything to yourself?" I say, accusingly to Harry. He stares at me for a moment, but before he's able to respond I spin around and walk.

It only takes a few minutes to reach the ceremony room. The doors are still closed, a murmur of voices streaming out from underneath. I know what I just did to Harry was mean, particularly since everyone knows about Zayn's big mouth. I wonder if I should go apologize when the door next to me opens.

"There you are," My sister says. "Where have you been? I've been looking for you for two hours."

"I brought chocolate," I say as she drags me into the room, slamming the door behind us. "Besides I been in the kitchen, checking the food. In the ballroom, checking the decorations. Staff room, checking," Harry suddenly crosses my mind. "some stuff."

"And what about the bride and groom?" She glares at me, her arms crossed. In that moment, for the first time in my life, my mind goes blank. I don't know what to say. There's no excuses, I forgot the most important thing. The couple.

"Don't worry," She starts laughing. "They're in the room across the hall. You should've seen yourself."

She takes the small metal bin from my hand and opens it. I'm still speechless.

"Nadja," I finally manage. "Why would you do that?"

"You been stressing all day," She licks her fingers. "Thought it would be funny."

I shake my head and force the bin out of her hand.

"Well, now you don't deserve this." I look down carefully choosing the best, most likable piece in the bucket. I pick it up and hold it to my lips. She cringes.

"Don't you dare."

"Too late." I throw the piece in my mouth just in time for Nadja to hurl herself at me. We tumble onto the floor, chocolates everywhere. We laugh.

"You know," She says. "I'm gonna miss this."

"Me too," I remove a strand of hair from her forehead. "So why don't you show me that dress of yours."

And she does.

When she's done, she hurriedly shoves me out the door. Apparently even having a suite doesn't give a girl enough time to do her hair. I look at the clock. Two minutes.

I walk over to my parents door. I haven't seen them all day, not trusting my own reaction. I still don't, but it's now or never if my plan's ever going to work. I gently tap on the door. It's my dad who opens.

"Dad," I manage to say. "We need to-"

But before I'm able to finish my mom appears. She's wearing a white gown weaved together at the top with small shimmering stars. It falls behind her elegantly, and on her head is a crown of hair beaded with small pearls matching her eyes. She's smiling.

"Hi Benjamin," She says sweetly. "You like it?"

"I love it."

We all walk out and my sister joins us. She's wearing a gown almost like my mother. Except hers is lighter, fitted to the curves of her body. Her blonde hair falls on her shoulders like a waterfall and in her hands are flowers. She's the flower girl.

"Everyone ready?" My dad asks. Everyone nods. The doors open.

* * *

"Can we bring out the cake?" Louis asks me already around nine. I quickly check my pocket, making sure both my parents' room keys are still there before giving him the heads up. He gives me a grateful smile. They have their concert and the faster they get there the better.

As he moves away I glance over at my parents. They look happy together for once. In some ways I'm glad I never got to confront them. Maybe all they needed was a little push. A little extra spark of magic.

I smile at the thought. Magic is exactly the word to describe the weirdness of the last couple of days. But luckily, everything finally seems to fit together. My parents, my sister, maybe even Harry won't hate me after tonight. And then we can go on a real date. A date that can actually end the way I want it to. For the first time.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Louis has grabbed the DJ's microphone. "May I present the highlight of the night the one, the only, the Wedding Cake."

The doors to the kitchen open and out rolls a three layer cake covered in white cream frosting and dark chocolate. On top is a large eatable shell with my parents name's edged into it. On the sides are sparklers, lighting up the now only half-lit room.

My parents hurries towards it.

"You first, honey," My dad says, specking my mom's ear. My mom naturally gets overexcited for the chocolate and cuts out a big piece. They share a bite and kiss.

"Wait a moment," Louis gets everyones attention. "Is that music?"

The sound of guitar strings fills the room and everyone's eyes are once again locked on the kitchen. Niall exits, smiling.

"You know what it means. It's time for the couple to dance."

Everyone claps, and Niall starts singing. My mom smiles, it's their song. My dad swiftly offers his hand and my mom accepts it. Soon they're both spinning around in circles, surrounded by family. I smile.

"Wish that was you?" Someone suddenly says behind me and I turn. It's Harry.

"Yeah," I answer, smiling at him. "I wish it was."

* * *

My eyes stray for the twentieth time in an hour towards the door. I heard an argument earlier as the guys left, making me feel even guiltier for making Harry stay. Especially after I already owe them big time for the music, the cake, and letting me dance with my mother.

Unfortunately, I also know that Harry would stay if he knew what was really going on, which didn't make it any easier.

I wonder if I should go tell him, when Nadja dumps into the chair across from me.

"Who are you thinking about?" She asks, straightforward as usual.

"What do you mean?" I reply, trying hard to cover up that I just glanced at the door again.

"Well, first of all," She leans over. "You have been constantly looking at that door for the past twenty minutes, meaning one, you have to pee really bad, or two, you are thinking about someone. I bet the latter."

"You know, I was actually on my way to the bathroom," I stand up, meeting my sisters glare.

"Sit," She demands. "Who is it?"

I hesitate, not sure what to tell.

"What's her name?" She tries again, in a lighter tone.

"His name," I start, seeing no use in hiding it. "Is Harry."

If she's startled by the fact that I might be gay she doesn't let it on. In fact, she seems to be calmer than usual.

"And you like him?"

"Yeah," I admit. "And he likes me."

"Uh," My sister starts smiling. "My brother's in love."

"Stop it," I push her hand away from my hair. "Why did you come over here anyway?"

"Well, the guests wanted to know if could leave," She explains. "Especially since our parents haven't showed themselves in half an hour."

"I guess that's all-," I stop. "Wait, what did you just say?"

"They haven't shown themselves for half an hour."

"Oh, no, the dance," My hand immediately goes to my pocket. It's empty.

"What's going on?" She asks, bewildered.

"If we're not lucky," I squeeze out through gritted teeth. "They're in a truck on their way to Texas."

Confusion crosses Nadja's face, thinking about to explain. I don't. Instead I jump from my seat, storming towards the door. She's right behind me.

Outside the ballroom Harry's sitting with his back against the wall. He seems to be halfway asleep. I turn towards my sister, her eyes still puzzled.

"Look," I say. "I know this sound strange, but I need you to go check their room."

Nadja nods and leaves.

It's not until after her footsteps have faded far into the distance that I finally bend down beside Harry.

"Harry, I need your help."

"Go away," He sounds like a child.

"I'm not gonna go away," I touch his arm. "Now, listen. I-"

"I said, go away," He pulls away from me.

"I'm sorry," I try to look at him. "But I really need your help."

Harry doesn't answer, so I quickly grab his arm again about to pull him up when something hits my jaw. A fist.

"I don't want to help you," His voice is deep and grainy. "You took me away from my friends, played with my feelings-"

"I didn't play-" But before I'm able to finish, Harry's face is right in front of mine.

"You didn't," It's obvious he's kidding. "Then tell me why you got upset about this morning."

My mouth stays shut.

"Or this afternoon before the ceremony."

I manage to look him, begging him to stop. He doesn't.

"Or as soon as this evening, when you could have let me go with my friends instead of staying here, watching your parents, who apparently are grown enough to make their own decisions."

I stare at him an awe, not knowing what to say. He's right.

"You got nothing to say?"

"We had sex," I mumble. His eyes retract as Nadja returns, a horrid look on her face. She stops when she's sees us.

"So, this is Harry," She studies him. "You're cute."

"Nadja, focus."

"Okay, you were right," She croaks. "They're gone."

Her voice cracks, her legs collapsing beneath her. I look at Harry, and he lets me through. I bend down beside her, and soon her face is on my shoulder. I pat her hair, telling her we'll figure it out. For some reason, I even promise it'll be all right. Then a set of car keys lands beside me. And I know it's true.

* * *

"Was I good?" Harry says, breaking the silence. None of us have talked for the last forty-five minutes since we left the hotel. I know, I counted. My brain's still spinning, knowing he's doing this for Nadja, not me. Never me.

"What?" I turn my phone again. Done that for forty-five minutes too.

"You said we've had sex," He says. "Was I good?"

"Well, about that," I start, not wanting to explain any of crazy replay of days. "We never really got to it."

"That bad, huh?" Harry turns his attention back to the road.

"No," I deny, a bit too loud. "What we did was a-mazing. Those lips of yours…. Um."

Harry starts smiling, and I immediately realize I've fallen into his trap. So I decide to shut up.

We drive a few more minutes in silence. I glance at the time. It's about quarter till midnight, which means we got about ten minutes. Usually I wouldn't use the news to determine time, but it's my only lead.

"Can't you drive a bit faster?" I ask, trying hard to make out the road out in front of us, which isn't easy with a heavy rainstorm in the way.

"In this weather, no," Harry replies. "Besides I'm already over seventy. We should catch up with your parents soon enough."

I doubt it. Besides how are we even going to see them through this? It would take a miracle to…

"Harry, look," I point towards something shady in front of us. "Isn't that…"

"I think it is," Harry agrees. "Call, and get them to pull over."

I stare at my phone, not daring to do it. What if it's not them or worse.

"Benji," Harry complains. "Come on, we haven't got time for this."

I gulp and unlock it. I quickly search my phone and press the call button. It beeps.

"It's not going through," I start panicking. "The storm, it's blocking the signal."

"Then what do we do?" Harry asks, and a sudden idea hits me.

"You got a phone?"

"Sure," Harry hands me something from his pocket. "But I don't think-"

I quickly roll down the window and throw it at the car. It hits a side view mirror perfectly, leaving a nice mark.

"Why?" He exclaims madly as I roll the window back up.

"Look," I reply, ignoring his response. "The turn signal's on."

Harry curses under his breath, but quickly follows suit. We park right in front of them about to head out, when someone pounds our window madly. My dad.

"Is this yours?" He holds up what looks like a broken brick.

"Yes," Harry says, accepting it.

"Would you please step with me outside," My dad suggests. But before Harry's able to reply I snatch him from behind, having slipped unnoticed out from the other side.

"What do you think you're doing?" I ask, my teeth clattering. I wish I'd remembered a coat.

"Benjamin?" My dad exclaims startled. "I should be asking you the same question."

"Now should you?" I glare at him. "Because as far as I remember, I'm not the one who ran out on my wedding."

My dad stares at me for a moment, his temper clearly about to take control.

"Look," He starts. "You don't understand-"

"Understand what?" I scream. "What's going on? No, dad, I don't. I don't understand a thing you and mom have been doing for the past few months."

"Benjamin-""

"Oh, and please, don't tell me the classic tale about growing apart. You got divorced."

"Benjamin."

"And for what? To get married again. You know, I just wanted to make you guys happy. I wanted for you two to trust me, talk to me. But none of you guys ever do. Never. Not since the break up, not since-"

"Benjamin!" My dad suddenly yells, just enough for me to snap out of it. "Look."

At first I don't get it. Then I turn, realizing what I've done. The tree is coming down. This time on Harry.


	4. Day 4 - Runaway

Day 4

**Runaway**

Terrible. That's how I feel when I finally wake up. My body's aching, my hands limp, and if I thought my head hurt yesterday that was surely an understatement. What I just did, or didn't do, have made me more dreadful than ever. Watching that tree come down on Harry, followed by me rampaging through the pieces is definitely the worst nightmare I ever had. Except it wasn't a nightmare, it was real. Down to the blood on the pavement.

I stay in my bed for a long time. My body doesn't want to get up and I don't complain. What would I do anyway? Find Harry and apologize? I wouldn't even be able to face him after all I've done. Nevertheless explain how I first watched my parents die, then him. It wouldn't make sense.

I'm about to drift back to sleep when someone knocks on the door. My sister.

"Benji," She calls. "If you're in there, you better open that door right now."

I love her. Always so sweet and gentle.

She knocks again, more furious than before. I give in, climbing out of the bed. She's still knocking when I open the door, her eyes glancing nervously around in the hallway. She sighs.

"Great, you're here," She walks into my room. "I was getting worried."

"About what?" I close the door after her.

"Oh, you know," She answers like it's obvious. "I brought chocolate."

I smile and grab the bin from her hand. We know each other too well.

"So why are you here?" I remove the lid and pick the best piece.

"Why am I here?" Nadja glares surprisingly at me. "Don't you know what time it is?"

The piece of chocolate falls to the floor, I spin around. I haven't even thought about looking at the clock. I just assumed it was morning as usual. Unfortunately, I appear to be very wrong.

"5.30 in the afternoon," I repeat horrified after Nadja. "No way, that's not possible."

"I'm afraid it is," She says, looking me over. She's probably wondering why I'm not dressed yet since our parents are getting married in half an hour with me as my dad's best man. Not that he deserves it.

"Which is why I'm are here," My sister continues. "Mom sent me…"

Great. Mom worries about me for the first time in months and for what? A stupid wedding she's going to run away from? I'm so not participating.

"Well, tell mom," I start, rudely interrupting her. "That we'll see each other tomorrow. After all, I'm not feeling that well."

The last part must be convincing enough since Nadja drops her accusing stare. Which, in other words, means I do indeed look terrible. Not that it matters.

"All right," She gets up from my bed. "I'll tell her."

I follow her to the door, both of us silent. I don't notice until now that she's already wearing her bridesmaid gown, her curls flowing elegantly behind her. She probably came for nothing more than to talk just like I did yesterday before the ceremony. And now I ruined it. She didn't even get a piece of chocolate.

"Good luck," I mumble as she walks out the door.

"Benjamin, look I know-" She starts, but before she can continue familiar voices echo down the hall. My hand instantly slams the door, and when I finally get the courage to open it again she's gone. A big lump of guilt replacing her.

* * *

I sit in the front row. My mom and dad are smiling happily at each other, both reciting their vows. Next to me there's an empty seat. It was for Nadja, but apparently she didn't care to show up after our argument. And it's all my fault. If I had just done as everyone expected she would be here, and I wouldn't be sitting here feeling as I'm about to throw up.

I even saw Harry on my way here. Of course, he didn't recognize me, but I still couldn't help myself from sending a smile his way. He'd smiled back.

"Can we have the rings?" The pastor says. Everyone suddenly turns their eyes on me. I stand up and grab the pillow beside me. Apparently my parents thought that making their kids in charge of everything, but the ceremony itself was a great idea. I'm about to head up the steps, when an uncontrollable fervor rushes through me. The pillow in my hands drops to the floor.

"I can't do this," I say, loud enough for the entire room to hear. My mom stares at me, nodding for me to pick it up. But I don't. I can't.

I run out of the room, the door closing heavily behind me.

I stand there for a few moments, catching my breath. I can't go back in there. Not when I know what's going to happen.

A sudden sound escapes from my sister's changing room. I'm about to press my ear up against the door, when a moan slips through beneath it.

"Zayn," It's Nadja. "Stop. My parents, they'll be out any minute."

"Then we better make this fast."

I immediately back away. I really need to get out here.

"Hey," I turn. It's Harry. "What's-"

I kiss him. I don't know why, I don't know how, but it happens. He looks startled at me, but before he's able to ask any questions I begin making my way down the hall. The rooms flash past me, and soon I find myself in the parking lot. I quickly scan it, and before I can rethink it a door slams behind me. I'm inside a red truck.

"Would it be wrong to ask what's going on?" Harry says beside me. I wonder how he got here so fast, but figure there's probably some kind of backway out of the hotel.

"Yes," I take a deep breath. "Yes, it would."

We sit there in silence for a moment. Harry's fingers are strumming restlessly on the wheel.

"Can I then ask what you're doing here?"

"Here?" I look around, and for the first time I realize where I am. I'm in the guys truck, the one they use to get to and from the city.

"Look, I have an errand in New Orleans," Harry starts. "If you wanna come with me and let off some steam that's cool."

I don't answer immediately, not trusting my own mouth. Instead I nod.

"Good," Harry ignites the engine. "Now, if you could not kiss the driver that would be appreciated."

I blush at his words, but do as told. After all, I've already hurt enough people today.

* * *

"You're done yet?" Harry motions towards the bottle in my hand. I've been drinking ever since he went into his meeting with the manager half an hour ago, trying to persuade him to let the guys go on later. From the looks of it, it worked.

"Nah," I say, my head spinning. "It's still half full."

"Unlike those," He glances at the other two wine bottles on the table. "How did you get them anyway?"

I wink at some girls down at the other end of the bar. They giggle.

"Look," Harry looks concerned at me. "I don't think you should drink anymore."

"I'm perfectly fine," I lie, almost falling off my chair. "Besides maybe I haven't been drunk before, but-"

"Wait, slow down, Sherlock," Harry interrupts. "You've never been drunk before? I'm so taking that bottle."

Harry reaches out, trying desperately to wrestle it out of my hand. Except I won't let go. My life's on a downfall and I might as well go down with it. Besides I've finally realized what my friends have been talking about for decades. Being drunk is fun, there's no denying it.

"What will it take for you to let it go?" Harry finally asks, giving up. I think for a moment.

"Kiss me."

"No way," He immediately replies. "I'm not kissing a drunk bastard."

I pull up my shoulders and call for the bartender. He happily returns seconds later with a bottle of whisky. Harry glares at me as I remove the cork. I feel the glass against my lips about to take a big slurp, when Harry finally leans in. The bottle hits the table, and before I'm able to protest his lips are on mine. A euphoria fills me.

"There," He mumbles under his breath. "Now will you please stop?"

I nod, about to push the bottle away when a sudden grogginess fills me. I'm going to barf.

"Oh, no," Harry grabs me by the shoulders. "We need to get you outside."

I don't argue.

Fresh air breaks into my lungs as Harry leads me outside. He left money on the counter, but before I'm able to thank him a large amount of mushy liquid flows out of me.

"Wow, easy there," Harry taps my back. It helps.

"Thanks," I manage, finally straightening up. My head's still dizzy, but at least my stomach's feeling better. "And sorry for everything in there."

"It's all right," Harry says. "We all been there."

I doubt it.

"Besides," He continues. "You are really not that bad a kisser."

I doubt that too, but still can't help but laugh.

"So," I start. "What do we do now?"

"Well," He replies. "Since you decided to distract me, and it's way over an hour back. Why don't we stay?"

I study him for a moment.

"Unless you want to get back to the wedding, of course," He hurriedly adds.

"No, it's not that," He looks expectingly at me. "You know what, forget it. You're completely right. And why don't we start our evening with a walk."

Harry smiles at my emphasis on the word 'our'.

"Of course," He agrees, jokingly presenting his arm. "After you, darling."

I grab it, grinning. Maybe this day is not so bad after all.

* * *

The stars are finally starting peek out behind the thick carpet of clouds when we reach the pavilion. Harry and I have been walking for a couple hours now, talking about the most ridiculous things. He even showed me some of the tattoos he'd gotten in places the guys have performed, making me wonder why they still haven't got a record contract.

"Let me get this straight. You have performed in how many countries?"

"27," Harry repeats. "It's not even that big a deal. It's mostly been small bar-shows anyway."

"Still," I say. "It sounds like you're chasing someone."

"Maybe we are."

We both stop, watching a few jazz musicians set up. The pavilion's filled with lights tonight, romantically lighting up the steps. It's seems crazy it's only two days since Harry serenaded me here. So crazy that I almost don't notice when an old country song starts playing. I recognize it immediately. It's from my favorite movie.

"Wanna dance?" Harry reaches for my hand.

"I would love to." He drags me towards the steps and places his hand on my hip. We lock eyes.

"So," He looks at me. "You still haven't told me where you from."

"Canada," I answer, surprised. "Vancouver, more precisely. You?"

"England."

"You don't say," I exclaim in an exaggerated accent. He laughs. "Is it always like this in New Orleans?"

"Mostly," He spins me around. "That's why I like it."

He looks at me while he says it, and I can't help but blush. I done that a lot tonight. We dance a little longer and before I'm able to explain why, we both lean forward. My cheek lightly grazes his and as the song ebbs out our lips meet. Behind us someone honks.

"Get a room," Zayn yells out the window of my sister's truck. Harry and I immediately turn, none of us able to stop smiling. Our fingers intertwined.

* * *

This time when I hit the mattress I know exactly what to do. Harry and I just came back from the concert, and even though he's already rapidly kissing my neck, I have to resist. At least just a little while longer.

"Harry," I say, my breathing ragged. "I need to tell you something."

"Fire ahead," Harry replies in a sexy tone that doesn't make it any easier.

"I," Harry kisses my chest, a shudder runs through me. "Earlier today... the kiss, it wasn't by accident."

"It wasn't?" He doesn't sound surprised. Instead he keeps going.

"Could you stop a sec'?" I push him off me. He stares at me dumfounded.

"What did you do that for?" He says, anger spicing his voice.

"Because," I start. "The last time we did this-"

"We've done it before?" Harry looks confused at me. "Was I good?"

"Focus, Harry," I roll my eyes.

"Well, it's just if we done it before," He stands up. "There's no use in hiding it."

At first I don't get what he's saying. Not until he moves his hands to his waist, grabbing the top of his jeans. I watch as he slips them off, revealing what I wanted so badly for days. I moan.

"You like that?" Harry teases, bending over me. "Then let's take it one step further."

He leans down and presses his lips against mine. The bulge in my pants instantly grows, and before I can stop it my hands have a tight grip on Harry's butt, pressing him closer. He moans, quickly removing my jeans.

Our naked bodies weave together the moment they meet. A warm sensation passes through me, and soon I'm on top, sucking his nipples. His moan echoes through the bedroom, his body shrugging beneath me. It slowly intensifies as our bodies continue to rub against each other, and soon we're covered in sweat.

I glance at the clock.

"We need to hurry," I gasp.

"If you say so."

Harry quickly grabs my shoulders, throwing me back onto the madras. His eyes go wild, and before I'm able to resist our erections meet. A loud moan escapes my lips. It's time. I grab him by the hair, forcing his mouth onto mine. A nerve-wrecking explosion fills us.

Then it goes black.


	5. Day 5 - Summer Love

Day 5

**Summer Love**

The moment I open my eyes I know it's morning. Outside the rain's once again drumming against the windows, and even though everything's still swirling, my body are stuck in a state of ecstasy. Whatever happened between Harry and I was real. Even if he can't remember it.

I quickly get up, my brain beating against my scalp. Apparently alcohol's still rushing through my blood even though it's several hours ago. I start putting on my jeans, and soon I'm in the hallway fully dressed. I'm wearing the same T-shirt I wore a few days ago when Harry and I spend the day in New Orleans, not that he remembers. But maybe I'm lucky.

The moment I enter the laundry room, it's obvious they're there. After all who else would fighting with towels.

"Besides you went first yesterday," Louis ends.

"In other words," Harry replies, spanking his friend with a towel. I watch them fight for a few seconds, wondering what I should do when something crosses my ming. I step forward.

"Boys," I say. "I do think, it's my turn to go first."

They both look, staring at me startled.

"After all, we wouldn't want the manager, your boss, to find out, would we?" I send them a daring glare. Luckily, Louis is the first to stand up.

"And why should we believe you?" He steps closer, a towel in hand.

"Because," I face him. "My parents are getting married."

I don't have to say anymore. The message seems to have seeped into their heads instantly. Harry quickly gets up, giving me an admiring nod before motioning towards the cart.

"After you, darling," He says, making me involuntarily blush. I try to ignore it, almost running towards the cart. But just before I reach it Harry steps in front me.

"Haven't I seen you before?"

"Yes," I admit, stepping around him to climb into the cart.

"Good," Harry answers, jumping in beside me. "That means your in for wild ride."

* * *

I don't know why, but three hours later I find myself in front of my parents door. I can hear them bustling inside, packing up their stuff. My head's still hurting, but this time it's not the wine. This time it's the guilt finally overcoming me. The guilt and the anger there have been misleading me for days.

"Come on, honey," My dad starts, opening the door. "You can finish pac-"

He stops mid-sentence when he sees me, frozen in place.

"Dad," I say. "We need to talk."

He looks conflicted, frightened almost as he motions for me to get inside. I walk past him, knowing what I'm about to see won't make me happy. And I'm right, it doesn't.

In front of me are several gym bags, the exact same I cried over several days ago. The day Harry comforted me and we ran away. Some part of me wish I could do that again, but it's impossible. Especially when I know what's going to happen.

"Björn," My mom says, as she exits the bathroom. "What's going-"

She stops in front of us, her eyes locked on me.

"Honey, what are you doing here?"

"That," I take a deep breath. "Is something I think you should answer."

My parents quickly glance at each other before my mom sits down on the bed. My dad moves the bags and she pats for me to sit down beside her. Her hand is placed on my knee.

"Look," She starts, her voice fragile. "We were going to-"

"Don't lie," I interrupt. "I had enough of that. Tell me the truth."

She's silent for a moment, probably trying to make up the next line in her and my dad's grand scheme.

"Look," She starts again. "We are going to run away, tonight after dinner."

I thought I could handle it, but the moment it's out something inside me breaks. It's true. It has always been true.

"I know what you're thinking," My mom continues. "And it was never our plan to tell anyone."

"Why not?" I ask, frustrated through my tears.

"We thought would be easier this way."

"Easier for who?" I stand up. "Me? My sister? You seriously thought that not telling anyone were the best idea in the entire world."

"Benjamin, listen-"

"No. You listen," The anger from the last couple of days begins rushing through me. "I have been trying for days, DAYS, to make everything perfect. But all you and dad ever do is run away. Again and again and again. You never even told us why you got divorced in the first place. Was it so you could have this fancy 'vacation'?"

They're both staring at me, their faces covered in shock.

"Did you even think that Nadja and I things going on too? Like boyfriends?"

"Honey," My mom grazes my shoulder. "If that's the problem, I'm sure-"

"See," I back away. "You won't even answer one question."

I walk for the door about to head out.

"And FYI just because I may have a boyfriend doesn't mean I would ever let him come near you."

My hand immediately presses down the door handle, but before I'm able to exit my mom spins me around, looking straight into my eyes.

"You wanna know what's going on?" She says, clearly upset. "We're moving."

"Wait, WHAT?" I exclaim, completely taken aback.

"Your dad got a new job in Las Vegas. As for the divorce," My mom casts a glance back at my dad. "It's complicated."

I nod, still not able to grasp what's going on. Did my mom just say they were going to move?

"That's why you left the credit card," I feel myself collapse onto the bed. "I'm not coming with you?"

It wasn't supposed to be a question, but apparently my mom takes it otherwise.

"I'm sorry," She sits down next to me. "You're almost eighteen and we just thought you would rather stay with you friends."

"But," Tears slowly begin to return. "That means I'm going to live… alone."

My mom doesn't deny it, instead she pats my back, trying her best to comfort me.

* * *

"A bottle of whisky, please," I say, falling into the bar seat at the hotel's bar. I don't even know why I went down here. Especially not since I managed to convince my parents to leave as soon as possible. I even promised to tell all the guests.

"Here," A glass slams down beside me, but instead of being filled with whisky it contains some kind of brown, mushy liquid. I look up at the bartender.

"This is not what I ordered."

"Well," Harry replies, pushing it back towards me. "It's obvious you were a bit hungover this morning. Besides," He leans forward. "We're not allowed to serve alcohol to minors."

"Garbage," I protest. Harry just smiles and continues to polish the glass in his hand. I stare at the drink in front of me for a few seconds before grabbing it. Harry's right, I do still feel a bit hungover, especially after the argument. Maybe a little taste wouldn't hurt. I was very wrong.

"Gross," I manage to choke out, putting the glass back down. Harry's laughing.

"I didn't say it tasted well," He says in between laughs. "So," He leans in again. "Who is he?"

"Who?" I say, still scraping my tongue with a napkin.

"Your boyfriend."

I freeze. How did he know? He couldn't, not unless…

"You heard?"

"Accidentally," He looks apologetically at me. "Sorry, 'bout your parents."

"It's for the better," I smile at him. "Besides the guy I was talking about, I don't really know what we are."

For some reason Harry's smile widens, making a curl fall down in front of his eyes. I try not to do the same, but the moment his eyes meet mine, I know it's impossible. I move the hair away with my hand.

"You're done with that?" He motions towards the glass.

"Yeah," I say, immediately scrambling for tips in my pocket. "It' all yours."

He's about to take it away when something sharp cuts my finger. I grab it. It's the business card.

"Hey, can a burrow your phone?" I ask, waiting for him to fish it from his pocket

"Don't talk too long," He hands me the black cell and leaves with my drink. I quickly unlock it, entering the number from the card. I press call and it goes through. Soon a woman picks it up.

"Syco Records, how can I assist you?" I quickly start explaining how I got the number and soon without noticing she forwards me to the producer's personal assistant, who arranges a lunch meeting in New Orleans in about two hours.

I hang up, just as Harry returns.

"Need anything else?" He asks.

"A lift," I reply, handing him back the phone. He stares deviously at me.

"On one condition…"

* * *

How I managed to swallow the disgusting drink I have no idea. All I know is that the bitter aftertaste still hasn't left when we reach midtown. Harry has been laughing all the way along with Niall, who voluntarily joined after I told him he could devour the wedding cake once we got back.

"So who are you meeting again?" Harry asks for the twentieth time.

"Just someone I meet a few days ago."

It doesn't take long until we finally reach the right street. The assistant told me to meet him at an old French bakery, and sure enough only a few blocks down is an old, rustic building with small cafe tables standing in front of it. Across from it is the pavilion.

"All right," I make Harry stop the car. "I think it's here."

"A bakery?" Niall exclaims. "Can I come with? Please, I love pastries."

"Maybe next time, Nialler," I'm about to exit, when Harry let's out a surprised gasp.

"No way, that can't be," He stares starstruck at the man who enters, but before he can ask any questions I slam the car door behind me and walk across the road. The smell of old homemade buns and chocolate greets me as I enter the bakery. I smile, knowing Niall would have loved this, before making my way to a man at the far side of the room.

He looks the same as he did the last time I saw him. He still wears the frizzy black-grey hair, a sweater, and when he sees me his face contracts into several layers of wrinkles. He stands up, holding out a hand.

"Simon Cowell."

"Benjamin," I shake his hand. "Benjamin Parker."

"I hope you don't mind that I took the liberty to order," He studies me, waiting for a reaction.

"Not at all."

"Good," Simon seems pleased. "So tell me, you told my assistant we met, why?"

"It's…" I'm about to say complicated, but quickly stray away from it. "Surreal."

"Excuse me?" He stares confused at me as a waitress delivers two cups of coffee, each with a pastry. I almost consider saving it for Niall. Almost.

"Explain," Simon finally says after taking a sip of his coffee.

"You know," I take the business card out and start writing on the back of it. "Why don't you come see for yourself."

I hand him the card. He studies it for a few moments before finally putting it into his pocket.

"Why are you doing this?" He asks, looking me over.

"Because I'm not ready," I stand up. "Thanks for meeting me, Simon."

He nods, but as I'm about to walk away I notice the pastry on his plate.

"By the way, could you do me a favor?"

The moment I jump into the car Niall's all over me.

"You got something for me?" He asks, and I throw him the pastry. Harry studies me.

"Did you just talk to who I think you did?"

I put on my seatbelt. "Maybe, I did."

* * *

We're not back at the hotel until the clock strikes six. We spent the entire day tracking down all my relatives and parent's friends to tell them the wedding was off. Not everyone, particularly my grandparents, took it well. Maybe, now that I think about it, I shouldn't have told them about the Las Vegas wedding I'd suggested. Oh, well, we all make mistakes.

The minute we roll into the parking lot, Niall starts jumping up and down. He has waited all day for the wedding cake and I think he deserves it. Especially after he pushed the truck out of that mud-hole we'd been stuck in earlier.

"Are we there yet?" He repeats for at least the hundredth time.

"YES!" Harry and I yell in unison.

"Wow, calm down." Niall falls back into his seat. "I was just-"

"WAITING FOR THE CAKE. WE KNOW." We yell in unison again. Niall looks down, but I know he'll forgive us. Just one taste of the chocolaty goodness and everything will be back to normal. Sorta.

"Are you okay?" Harry asks, noticing I just went pale.

"Yeah," I push the thought of my parents away. "Just thinking."

"About me?" I laugh. Harry's been halfway flirting with me all day, and even though I've trying to ignore it, it's hard. Especially with those curls.

When we are finally parked, Niall immediately stumbles out the car, running for the kitchen. But before he can disappear entirely, Harry yells after him.

"Remember to take a shower."

"Okay," Niall yells back, probably more in response than an actual answer.

"He's not gonna do it, you know." I say, getting out next to him.

"Nah," Harry shakes his head. "But it was worth a shot."

We start walking towards the entrance, but before we reach it Harry stops me.

"Hey, wanna go for walk?"

"Aren't we already walking?" I joke, making him smile.

"Yes," He agrees. "But," He steps closer. "I was thinking more like the beach?"

I slowly nod, letting him drag me towards it.

I have no idea how long our walk takes. All I know is that it's blowing hard and the waves are still beating fast against the shore. Just like the night four days ago when Harry and I walked here together.

"You think too much."

"Huh?" I let out, not getting Harry's words.

"You," He points at me. "Thinks," He moves the finger to his head. "Too much." He spins it.

"I do not," I say, grabbing his hand. It feels warm in mine, like two pieces of metal melting together. He smiles.

"So," He starts, playing with my hand. "I wondered if you would, maybe, come tonight."

At first I'm surprised. It seems just like the first night, the night when he kissed me and asked me stay. The night that was a bit too perfect.

"I'm sorry," I hesitate. "I can't."

He looks down, embarrassed. I want to say something, come up with some kind of apology, but can't. He lets go of my hand.

When we get back to the hotel my sister's in the lobby. She smiling and laughing and next to her is no other than Zayn. Her smile switches the moment she sees me, but before I'm able to move she comes towards me, embracing me in a bone fracturing hug.

"Benjamin Christian Parker," She lets go, finally letting me breath. "Did you ever think about telling me you cancelled the wedding?"

"I'm sorry?" I try, but she doesn't let me go that easy.

"Sorry," Her eyes are on fire. "You know, Benjamin, I expected more of you."

"Like telling me you had a boyfriend?" I fire back, making her blush.

"That's…" She tries to think of something. "That's different."

"Uhm," I nod. She hits my shoulder.

"Hey, don't give me that look. Can't we just say we both made mistakes?"

"Sure," I say, letting her me hug again. As we part a sudden yelp reaches my ear. I turn around just in time to see Liam and Louis enter the lobby, Louis yanking Niall's ear. He yelps again.

"Look who we found in the kitchen," Louis says, letting the Irishman go.

"But I was hungry," Niall complains, rubbing his ear.

"We got a little over two hours before the concert starts," Liam says, watching him. "And you decided cake was more important than," Liam brushes a few crumbs away from Niall's mud-covered shirt. "Our image."

"I told him to get a shower," Harry adds, putting up his hand.

"Which is why he'll be crashing at your place while we get ready."

Liam immediately turns, gesturing for the others to follow him. None objects and soon they're all on the way out the door. Or almost.

"Harry, wait," I yell, running after him. He stops. "Will you promise me something?"

He gazes at me, then nods.

"Sing an original tonight."

"But-"

"No buts," I grab his hand. "If you don't have one, write one. I'm rooting for you."

Before he's able to respond I do something crazy. Something I wouldn't have done four days ago. I lean in and kiss him.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

He smiles, gently squeezing my hand before walking out the door. My sister appears behind me.

"Looks like I'm not the only one, who haven't told about their boyfriend."

"Shut up," I turn around and grab her arm. "Now, let's go have some cake."

* * *

It's less than an hour till I have to be at the airport. I know that. What I don't know, on the other hand, is why I ended up in my sister's truck on the way to the guys's gig right before. I already said goodbye to Harry, I don't need another reminder. Apparently, my sister thinks otherwise.

"When do I have to turn?" Nadja asks, focusing on the road. She's been using me as gps ever since we entered the city.

"Two more blocks to the right," I answer. "So tell me again, why you're not coming home with me?"

"I want to stick around for a bit," She stops, waiting for the light to turn green. "See if it works out."

"Between you and Zayn?" I send her a disbelieving glare. She smiles.

"Yes," She hits my shoulder.

"Watch the road," I say, rubbing it. Maybe my sister doesn't look like it, but she's strong. "Beside this is not Canada. There's a difference between miles and kilometers."

"Sure," My sister replies, turning the car so sharp I bump my other shoulder into the door. Luckily, the trip's soon over and we park right across from the bar. Inside the music's already going. The guys are on.

"All right," Nadja turns owards me. "Let me see you."

"Wait, you're not coming?"

"No." She starts adjusting my collar. When she's done, she looks me over one more time.

"Good luck," She says, smiling. I smile back before climbing outside. Inside my chest my heart's racing. I try to ignore it as I walk across the square, but by the time I reach the door I feel as if I'm about to explode. I push it open and walk inside.

Up on the stage the guys just finished a number, I'm sure, since the crows erupts into cheer as I enter. I can see they've changed into other clothes and even Niall is now spotless. I smile, leaning against the door opening, watching Harry throw off his jacket. The girls go wild.

"So," He says. "We thought we would do something a little special for you tonight."

The crowd grows wilder as Niall returns onstage with a guitar. All the guys sit down

"We just wrote this song and," Harry hesitates for a moment. "And we would like to know what you think."

Niall starts picking, the crowd goes silent. After a few beats, Zayn starts,

_Can't believe you're packing your bags, trying so hard not to cry._

_It's the best time, feels like the worst time_

_But we have to say goodbye_

Zayn glances at Harry. He takes over, smiling.

_Don't promise that you gonna write_

_Don't promise that you call_

_Just promise that you won't forget we had it all_

A tear slides down my cheek as Niall continues.

_Cause you were mine for the summer_

_Now we know it's nearly over_

_Feels like snow in September_

_But I always will remember_

_You were my Summer Love_

_You always will be my Summer Love_

I slide out the door. Inside I hear Harry join in for the last part and my back presses against the glass, tears streaming down my face. He doesn't need to see me like this. That's not why I came.

The music keeps playing behind me as I make my way back to the car. I try to dry them off, but they won't disappear. They're at the final chorus when I slam the car door. My sister touches my hand, smiling.

"Did you do it?"

"Yes," I reply. "I did."


	6. Day 6 - Home

Day 6

**Home**

Noise. That's all I hear when I finally wake from my sleep. Cars honking, people hustling, birds screeching. It's all back. Along with me.

I stretch in my bed, yawning. The plane didn't get in until early this morning, and even though I survived past midnight I wasn't sure where I would end up. Luckily, I ended up at home. Home in my own apartment.

A smile crosses my lips. In some ways that actually do sound pretty cool.

Suddenly the sound of vibration against wood echoes through the room. My phone's ringing. I quickly grab it from the bedstand. It's an unknown number.

"Hello?"

"I saw you."

"Harry?"

"Yeah, it's me."

A sudden joy fills me from top-to-toe. Maybe my sleep had been dreamless, but I still dream about him. I'm about to ask what's up, when a question pops into my head.

"How did you get my number?" I stare at the screen like it would know the answer.

"Do you have video call?"

I nod, somehow expecting him to see it.

"Could you turn it on?"

I do, and soon the screen flickers to life, a picture of a guy with curly, brown hair covering it. He's sitting in a room I already know way too well. His bedroom.

"Hi," I say, my mind going blank.

"Hi," He grins, his eyes lighting up. We sit there for a few moments just staring at each other.

"Thanks for coming last night," He finally says, breaking the silence.

"I'm glad I did."

"Me too," Harry glances at one of his tattoos. "Were you the one who asked Simon to come see us?"

I hesitate for a second before nodding.

"Yeah," I answer. "I was."

"Thanks," He looks at me again. "He's going to sign us, you know."

"You deserve it." I say truthfully. Maybe Simon gave me the card, but it had always been meant for them. "So what are you gonna do now?"

"Album, tour, whatever really comes our way, I guess."

"Will you promise me something?"

Harry lets out a laugh, "Sure."

"Come to Vancouver."

"Like on tour?" Harry stares teasingly at me.

"Yes. Or just whenever you feel like it." I can't help, but smile at the thought. Harry and I together, no rewinds. It has to happen.

"Deal." We pretend to shake hands over the camera. "Now before you go," Harry starts rummaging through something behind him. "I need to give you a message from Louis."

At first I don't get it, not until he drags up a white block. I burst into laughter.

"Now, this is serious," He pretends, trying hard to keep a straight face. "Louis don't want you to, quote, ever again write personal messages or phone numbers on his 'stuff'." Harry says it so exaggerated I can't stop laughing. "But," Always the big but. "As his friend he allowed me to keep it. Temporarily, of course.'

He winks and before I'm able to stop laughing, the charger flickers across the screen its letters as clear as day. They read: Benji + Harry.


End file.
